December, 1919.
It had been a month since Escobar’s funeral ended.
The world seemed to have already forgotten the dead king.
The sun of Cuba burned as hot as ever, and the sugarcane kept growing, unchanged.
Lee Jun-hyuk, instead of attending the funeral, quietly visited the grave a few days later and left a bouquet of nameless flowers.
That was enough.
That was as far as his courtesy for Escobar went.
“Mr. Lee, here’s the November production report.”
Carlos came in, holding a stack of papers that still smelled of fresh ink.
His expression was bright with excitement.
“Total production has increased by 15% compared to the previous month. Quality control grades have also gone up to above average.
The integrated management system is now running perfectly.”
Lee Jun-hyuk flipped through the report.
Numbers danced across the paper.
It was similar to the reports he used to see every day at the securities company in his previous life, but this was on another level.
All of it, truly ‘his own.’
A 15% increase.
On this massive scale, 15%… that meant enough to buy another house in downtown Havana every single day.
It was a crazy world.
“How’s Delgado doing?”
“It’s amazing. Since his sales team merged with ours, total sales volume has increased by 20%.”
Carlos was genuinely impressed.
“His network is really… like a spiderweb. He’s secured several new buyers from the Eastern United States that we never even considered.”
As expected, the answer was to tame the snakes and use them well.
“What about the sugar price?”
“As of this morning’s rate, it’s 8.5 cents per pound. It’s gone up again since yesterday.”
“It’s rising smoothly.”
At that moment, Jose entered and announced,
“Mr. Lee, Chairman Wang Xiaoming is here.”
“Please let him in.”
Chairman Wang entered with a smooth, almost oiled stride. Behind him were his son Zhen Hao and several unfamiliar Chinese men who followed like shadows.
Clothes of silk, well-manicured nails. They were no ordinary men.
“Mr. Lee, I hear your business is thriving—you’re absolutely glowing.”
“You look even better yourself, Chairman.”
“Haha, I’m just an old man who’s lucky enough to get a few crumbs thanks to you, Mr. Lee. I’m here today because I have some distinguished guests to introduce.”
Chairman Wang introduced those who had followed him in.
“These gentlemen are traders from faraway Shanghai. They sell Chinese tea and silk to the United States, and American industrial products to China.”
Lee Jun-hyuk’s eyes gleamed.
Shanghai. The Chinese market.
An opportunity he hadn’t even considered—no, one he hadn’t even dared to imagine.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Lee Jun-hyuk of the American Sugar Trading Company.”
Lee Jun-hyuk stood and offered a respectful handshake.
Their hands were soft, but within them, he could feel the keen calculation unique to true merchants.
“I’ve heard much about you.”
A middle-aged man, seemingly the representative of the group, spoke. His English was slightly awkward, but his gaze was sharp.
“They say an Eastern youth has toppled Escobar, the one who monopolized Cuba’s sugar. I didn’t know that was you.”
“It was just luck.”
“Luck is a skill, too. We want to import large quantities of Cuban sugar to China. We’ve been looking for a reliable supplier.”
“How much quantity do you need?”
“For now, we’d like to start with about 1,000 tons per month.”
1,000 tons a month.
Not a small amount.
In Lee Jun-hyuk’s mind, the abacus beads clicked together.
Beyond the American market, across the Pacific to the Asian market.
This wasn’t just a sugar business anymore.
It could be the foundation stone of the great trading empire he planned to build.
“Very well. I’ll prepare a sample for you. I assure you, the sugar from our plantation is the best in Cuba.”
After the meeting, Chairman Wang quietly asked,
“By the way, how is Leonardo doing? Are preparations for independence going well?”
“Yes. He says he plans to open a private office in central Havana at the beginning of next year.”
“That’s good to hear. He’s a capable man—I’m sure he’ll do well.”
Just then.
“Urgent telegram!”
Carlos rushed into the office, out of breath.
A telegram from New York.
Lee Jun-hyuk took the telegram and read it.
“Lee Jun-hyuk STOP Unbelievable events occurring STOP Sugar price going wild STOP New York futures market surpasses 10 cents per pound . STOP George Howard.”
10 cents.
Lee Jun-hyuk glanced at the calendar on his desk. December 14th.
Earlier than both history and his own prediction—by more than two weeks.
A few minutes later, another telegram arrived.
“Europeans have completely lost it. STOP Scouring for any sugar they can find .STOP If this keeps up, a wave of bankruptcies expected. STOP Requesting your advice .STOP George.”
Lee Jun-hyuk immediately drafted a reply.
“To George, STOP This is only the beginning. STOP I’m sure it’ll go even higher. STOP Don’t worry, enjoy the market. STOP Lee Jun-hyuk.”
After sending the telegram, Lee Jun-hyuk fell into deep thought.
The price was rising faster than expected.
His actions in Cuba were subtly changing the course of history.
‘I need to be more cautious. Read the market even more closely.’
That evening, Lee Jun-hyuk sat alone in his study, reviewing various reports again.
Delgado’s sales figures, production logs from each plantation, and the latest international sugar price trends that had just arrived by telegram.
Everything was perfect.
Production was exploding, sales were rising even faster, and prices were soaring like mad.
‘Everything’s going too smoothly.’
That was what made him uneasy.
From experience, the moment when things went too well was always the most dangerous.
Knock, knock.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
“Come in.”
The door opened, and Judge Mendoza entered.
It was the first time in several days he’d seen the judge’s face.
He seemed somewhat thinner than before.
“Sorry to disturb you while you’re busy.”
The judge addressed Lee Jun-hyuk.
It wasn’t an official occasion, but he still spoke with the utmost respect.
“Not at all, Your Honor. What brings you here so late? Would you like some tea?”
Jose silently brought over a cup of warm tea.
The rich aroma of the tea filled the study under the lamp light.
“Cuba is in an uproar these days.”
The judge raised his teacup and began.
“All because of you, Mr. Lee.”
“What have I done?”
“A young man from the East has become Cuba’s greatest Sugar King. On top of that, you treat your workers like family, and you don’t discriminate against anyone for their skin color… Many Cubans see hope in you—a hope that change is possible.”
The judge gazed at Lee Jun-hyuk with a serious expression.
“But that’s not the only reason I came here tonight.”
“What’s the matter?”
The judge glanced around, then lowered his voice.
“I’ve heard rumors that the Government is secretly preparing a new bill.”
“A bill…?”
“They plan to impose a ‘Special Tax’ on sugar exports.”
At that instant, Lee Jun-hyuk’s expression hardened.
He hadn’t expected this at all—this was information absent even from his future knowledge.
“A Special Tax? How much?”
“It’s not finalized yet, but I hear it’ll be 10% of the export price.”
10%.
A curse nearly slipped out.
A ridiculous amount—millions of dollars wiped from total profits.
“Why all of a sudden…”
“It’s obvious. The Government’s finances are dried up. With sugar prices soaring, they’re grabbing all they can while they have the chance.”
As always, governments, no matter the era or the country, behaved the same.
“When do you think it’ll take effect?”
This was the most important point.
“I hear it could be as soon as the end of March next year.”
End of March.
Lee Jun-hyuk breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
His original plan had been to sell off all stock between late February and early March.
With luck, he might just narrowly avoid the tax bomb.
“That’s a relief. There’s still some time left.”
“Yes, but don’t get too comfortable.”
The judge rose from his seat and warned him.
“The decisions of those in Government can change at any time. If they get greedy, they could move the schedule up. Please, prepare thoroughly.”
“Truly… Thank you, Your Honor.”
After the judge left, Lee Jun-hyuk sat back down at his desk.
His mind was in turmoil.
A new variable had just been added.
He picked up the telephone and contacted Delgado.
“Delgado, it’s me. Let’s meet at the office early tomorrow morning. We need to revise our entire sales strategy.”
On the other end, Delgado’s voice was still full of excitement.
“Of course, Mr. Lee! Buyers are going crazy these days!”
“That’s exactly why we need to be even more careful.”
Lee Jun-hyuk said coldly.
He hung up and looked out the window.
A night sky filled with countless peaceful stars.
But Lee Jun-hyuk knew.
A great storm was coming soon.
“There are only about two months left until the end of February. I have to finish everything before then.”
The next morning, Delgado came to the office.
His face was still flushed with excitement.
“Mr. Lee! I have good news!”
“What is it?”
“A large confectionery company in New York has expressed interest in a massive purchase! They want a six-month contract for 3,000 tons a month…”
Delgado spread out the documents in excitement.
It was a staggering offer.
“What’s the price?”
“They offered 10% higher than the current market price. If it’s 12 cents now, they’ll pay 13.2 cents.”
It was a good deal, but six months was too long.
“Cut it down to three months.”
“Eh? Why?”
Delgado looked puzzled.
“Six months is too long. The situation could change at any time.”
“But this is such a good opportunity…”
“Delgado.”
Lee Jun-hyuk looked straight at him.
“We’re only selling until the end of February.”
“The end of February?”
Delgado’s eyes widened.
“With prices still rising, why…?”
“There are other reasons.”
Lee Jun-hyuk, without mentioning the Special Tax, replied cautiously.
“It’s just my intuition, but… I think late February or early March will be the peak.”
“Your intuition…”
Delgado looked half-doubtful, but eventually nodded.
“Your intuition has never been wrong so far, Mr. Lee. I’ll trust you.”
By the end of December, sugar prices had broken through 12 cents, just as predicted. With the year-end atmosphere, the market was in a festive mood.
Christmas Eve.
There was a small party at the plantation.
Workers and staff gathered to celebrate together.
“Thanks to you, Mr. Lee, this has been the happiest Christmas ever.”
Jose said with emotion.
There was real happiness on the workers’ faces.
“Next year will be even better.”
Lee Jun-hyuk promised, though inside, he was worried about the crash that would hit after March.
The new year of 1920 dawned.
A hopeful new beginning.
“Mr. Lee, here’s the early-year price—it’s over 13 cents!”
Carlos reported.
From the 6 cents at the start of last year, it had more than doubled.
“At this rate, we could hit 20 cents in February.”
“Perhaps so.”
Lee Jun-hyuk answered quietly.
In truth, he knew it would go as high as 23 cents.
‘I can’t get greedy. It’s safest to sell around 20 cents.’
Second week of January.
With his preparations for independence complete, Leonardo visited.
“Mr. Lee, it’s all thanks to you.”
“Congratulations.”
After expressing his thanks, Leonardo cautiously gave advice.
“The sugar price is getting dangerous. It’s rising too fast.”
He had noticed as well.
It was the intuition of someone who’d watched the market for ten years.
“What do you think will happen?”
“There will be a correction soon. Or maybe… a crash.”
“A crash…”
“A spike like this isn’t natural. Too much speculative capital has flooded in.”
Lee Jun-hyuk nodded.
“That’s why we plan to sell everything by the end of February.”
“A wise decision. I was worried you’d get greedy, Mr. Lee.”
The two men shook hands.
Who would have thought he’d end up exchanging sincere advice with Escobar’s former right-hand man—fate was ironic indeed.
Third week of January.
Sugar prices broke through 15 cents per pound.
The market was nothing short of madness.
Banks rushed to give loans with sugar stock as collateral, and even lifelong farmers were turning into speculators.
“Urgent telegram!”
Carlos came in with yet another telegram.
“Lee Jun-hyuk STOP New York in chaos STOP Everyone obsessed with sugar STOP Now’s the time to collect golden eggs STOP George.”
Lee Jun-hyuk immediately wrote his reply.
“To George STOP Time to start getting out. STOP Prices have already risen enough. STOP Don’t cut open the goose’s belly. STOP Full-scale sales start February. STOP Plan to liquidate everything by end of February at the latest. STOP Lee Jun-hyuk.”
An hour later, George’s reply arrived.
“I trust your judgment . STOP Remember, greed leads to disaster. STOP As always, I believe in you. STOP George.”
Reading the telegram, Lee Jun-hyuk immediately called the foremen together.
The faces of the foremen gathered in the conference room were flushed with excitement and anticipation.
“Starting February, we enter full-scale sales.”
All eyes focused on Lee Jun-hyuk at his announcement.
“Our goal is to sell at least 90% of our total inventory by the end of February.”
“That much?” Jose asked in surprise.
“Yes. We need to move quickly.”
“We’ve secured plenty of buyers,” Delgado said confidently, raising his hand.
“If the price is right, we can sell as much as we want. Right now, we hold all the cards.”
“Good. But if we release too much at once, prices might fall. We have to pace our sales.”
“Don’t worry.”
Delgado’s eyes gleamed like a hunting hound.
“I’ll handle it. I’ll squeeze out every last drop for the best possible price without disturbing the market.”
After the meeting, Lee Jun-hyuk met with Chairman Wang separately.
“Chairman Wang, you should prepare as well.”
“Prepare for what?”
“A big change is coming. Get ready to recover any capital you’ve invested in the sugar business…”
Chairman Wang’s expression turned serious.
“It’s that dangerous?”
“Yes. After March, I can’t guarantee anything.”
“Understood. I’ll warn all the members of the Chinese Merchants’ Association, too.”
As January drew to a close, the price finally reached 17 cents.
On the streets, sugar was all anyone talked about. In restaurants, in barbershops, on every corner—people bragged about how much they’d made on sugar. Even ordinary citizens were borrowing money to invest in sugar futures.
“The end of madness is near.”
Late into the night, Lee Jun-hyuk continued to check the sales status at his office. If things went as planned, everything could be settled in February.
Outside, the festive atmosphere continued, but Lee Jun-hyuk, at the eye of the storm, felt only an eerie, chilling calm.
One month left.
He had to finish everything within that month.